Warner Brothers could have cast Scott Adkins as Batman. Instead, they chose Ben
Affleck. They would probably never cast a real-deal martial arts star like Amy
Johnston as Black Canary either, but this DC story-arc shows why they should.
Much to the dismay of the Justice League, Black Canary, a.k.a. Dinah Lance agrees
to an MMA fight to abject surrender with Lady Shiva, the most skilled
super-villain martial artist in the DC multiverse. No holds are barred, but
superpowers are off limits, which is unfortunate, because Black Canary’s shriek
is a powerful equalizer. The bout gets bloody in Tom King’s Teen 15+ rated Black
Canary: Best of the Best, illustrated by Ryan Sook, releasing today in a
6-issue hardcover bind-up.
Nobody
understands why Lance agrees to the fight, except supervillain Vandal Savage. He
promises to provide the rare cure needed by her mother, the original Black
Canary. All she neds to do is take a dive
in the sixth round—assuming she can last that long. That will be a big ask.
Even Batman unhelpfully admits he never managed to beat Lady Shiva when he reluctantly
agrees to a sparring session.
Nevertheless,
Lance’s mother relentlessly oversees most of her training until her condition
craters into a coma. Lance can also count on the support of her boyfriend, Oliver
Queen, at least during the periods when he isn’t dead. Happily, that will be for
most of Best of the Best. Admittedly, they have a complicated relationship,
but they are making it work.
In this alternte 1944, Col. Nick Fury has yet to lose his eye. Sgt.Sal Romero will lose something
even greater: his very soul. At least he contracts with a better class of
demon. Before Johnny Blaze, Zarathos resurrects Romero as Ghost Rider ’44 in
Phillip Kennedy Johnson’s Hellhunters, illustrated by Adam Gorham, which
is now on-sale at your local comic shop.
On the
brink of death by exposure, a platoon of retreating National Socialists are offered
a Faustian bargain by the demons known as the Unhallowed. When their senior
Juncker officer hesitates, Captain Felix Bruckner accepts, by putting a bullet
in his commander’s head. Transformed into demons, Bruckner’s undead men start turning
the tide of the war. Unfortunately, they start with Romero’s squad of
paratroopers.
Bruckner
is particularly sadistic when killing Romero. That makes the Sergeant amenable
to Zarathos offer of vengeance. Technically, he is also a demon, but Zarathos
and the Unhallowed are sworn enemies. Romero will be his tool for vengeance,
rather than the object his torments, but it was still a pretty lousy deal.
Regardless,
what is done is done, so Romero teams up with an elite Allied unit already hunting
the Unhallowed. The Howling Commandos currently number only three, but Agent
Carter and the mystical Sebastian Szardos (a.k.a. Soldier Supreme), commanded
by Col. Nick Fury, have no fear of the supernatural. They are soon joined by a
relentless Canadian soldier named Logan and Bucky, Captain America’s teenaged
sidekick, who takes macabre pleasure in killing National Socialists and taking
trophies. Unfortunately, Eisenhower cannot spare Cap from the Normandy landing.
It is
fantastic to see Marvel return to their WWII era characters and timelines. Johnson
makes smart use of the Howling Commandos, Logan, and Bucky. Yet, Ghost Rider ’44
emerges as the star of Hellhunters, who deserves his own series. He
shares a kinship with Blaze, but also forges his own identity. (Plus, just the
idea of a WWII Ghost Rider summons memories of Steve McQueen in The Great Escape).
While Marvel gets more credit for integrating traditional monsters like Dracula and
Frankenstein into its 1970s superhero universe, DC always had its own horror
chops. After all, they had the Creature Commandos and the long-running House
of Mystery was “hosted” by Cain, who sort of has a place in the DC universe.
Periodically, the major heroes battle the supernatural, but they never like it,
not one little bit. Unfortunately, many of them must face the dark side in the
anthology DC Horror Presents…(the ellipsis makes it scarier), which goes
on-sale today.
Frankly,
it kinds of seems like cheating to contribute a story focusing on super-villains,
like Dollhouse and Dollmaker. Nevertheless, David Dastmalchian & Leah
Kilpatrick do exactly that in “Love You to Pieces.” However, they certainly capture
the spirit of vintage horror comics while artist Cat Staggs cranks up the gore well
above what EC Comics could ever hope to get away with.
The
next story is even darker, while fully embracing the challenge of placing
iconic characters in a new horror context. The Boulet Brothers rise to the
challenge, forcing venerable Wonder Woman to confront a supernatural force that
hits very close to home. This encounter will leave a permanent mark on Diana’s
psyche, in which ever universe and timeline it might take place. Butch Mapa’s
art and Kristian Rossi’s colors also really pop off the page.
LaToya
Morgan’s “Living Doll” takes an approach similar to “Love You to Pieces,” this
time focusing on Scarface. However, his presumed victims’ Batman and Wonder
Woman Halloween costumes lend it further DC-ness. In this case, artists Tom Derenick
and Walt Barna really lean into the gore, in a fan friendly way, of course.
Yet, Aarons
Sagers’ “Superstitious Lot,” stands out as the clear highlight of what was originally
issue #2. It might seem like another super-villain spotlight, but hopefully
this story serves as a backdoor pilot for Tennyson Stacks, a.k.a. Dr. Spooky,
the Carl Kolchak-looking paranormal investigator summoned by Oswald Cobblepot, loved
and feared as The Penguin, who has been haunted past reason. It seems that all
those henchmen he betrayed have come back for vengeance. In addition to the
fresh new character and the clever concept, Sagers also delivers a sly cameo
for you-know-who.
Francesco
Francavilla finally fully embraces the bat in “The Chthonian Dawn,” also delivering
the most striking art of the four-issue run. It starts as one kind of horror,
but suddenly turns into a more Twilight Zone-worthy “oh the horror, oh
the horror” tale. Plus, the guest-starring role for Abby Arcane aptly
fits the story’s themes.
Frustratingly,
Patrick Horvath’s “The Brooding Public” starts with a truly horrifying concept,
but it is poorly served by patchy storytelling. To compound the problems, the
cartoony art conflicts with the grim apocalyptic themes. However, it is nice to
see an underutilized character like Adam Strange get a feature spot. If this
story could be smoothed out and tightened up, it could make a worthy companion to
the short film, DC Showcase: Adam Strange.
Arguably,
Catwoman counts as both superhero and super-villain. Regardless, she finds
herself the victim of a sinister O. Henry-from-Hell curse in Patton Oswalt
& Jordan Blum’s “The Diamond Steals Back.” At times, the story is
surprisingly poignant, but it ends with a deliciously macabre punchline, which
probably represents Oswalt’s funniest work in years.
Civilians often (rather insensitively) request war stories from veterans, but those who lived
to tell them can be hesitant to do so, because they aren’t sure if they will truly
be understood or appreciated. However, a fellow veteran comics writer like Khai
Krumbhaar can relate to their experiences. She and Alex de Campi edited True
War Stories, a graphic anthology of wartime experiences now available in
tradepaper, the proceeds from which go to military charities, including the
USO.
For the
most part, the contributors wanted to tell stories that were meaningful to them,
for personal and even idiosyncratic reasons, but they are not necessarily historical
turning points. For instance, probably the two best tales are Krumbhaar’s “Rebels
of Macadamia” and Matt Moores’ “Man Overboard,” because they illustrate the
hyper-reality of war, but with a slyly dark sense of humor. Frankly, they
remind me of the [maybe not-so] slightly off-color anecdotes I heard from my
late Naval aviator father.
Fittingly,
the Navy is represented in “Man Overboard,” which turns out to be the most
ribald yarn of the lot—and dad would be so proud. Peter Krause’s art also
nicely suits the characters’ hardnosed and rowdy attitudes.
Krumbhaar’s
“Rebels of Macadamia” is the sort of story that shows how war warps the margins
of reality, in comical and even macabre ways. It captures a hidden war within
the war, waged by Krumbhaar and her army colleagues against the rats in one of
Saddam former palaces. The winners would enjoy the white chocolate macadamia
cookies they both coveted.
They
stakes are considerably higher in Robert Kent’s “My Vietnam Story,” which is
well-served by Dave Acosta’s gritty and powerful art. If you thought Krypto was
heroic in Superman, wait to you see Maverick, a German shepherd service
dog, who foils a potentially calamitous Viet Cong attack. “War stories” do not
get much more “war” than this one.
Several
contributions illustrate the dividends paid by rigorous and repetitive military
training, such as Ian Eishen’s “Joint Team,” methodically chronicling the Navy
SEALs tracking a kidnapped Filipino girl, running reconnaissance missions, and
carefully planning the rescue operation to be conducted by the Filipino SEAL
team, due to the diplomatic rules of engagement at that time. Likewise, Juan
Vaca’s “OK” depicts the extraordinary discipline of Marine snipers, notably
including the discipline sometimes required to hold fire.
There
are three incredibly moving stories. Jerrod Alberich’s “Best Day, Worst Day” depicts
the bonds of camaraderie and the fear of losing a brother after a surprise
attack. It also gives some good PR to the WWE, who were at Camp Victory, Iraq
to stage a performance (or whatever term they prefer) at the time of the mortar
shelling.
Truthfully,
active-duty Army officer Stephen Cady’s “Brothers” would (and should) make a terrific
movie. After a harrowing deployment, seen in extensive flashbacks, Lt. Cady
finds himself temporarily quartered on Bagram Air Force base as he awaits transit
back to the States. In a twist of fate, the Marine half-brother he barely knows
is also stationed there, so he somewhat reluctantly agrees to meet for their
mother’s sake. That reunion stretches into seven of the most emotionally
resonant pages of sequential graphic story-telling you will ever read in your
life.
Are you a fan of superhero movies? Then thank Jewish American creators. Just about
every classic DC and Marvel character was invented by artists who to some
degree identified as Jewish, like Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster, who created
Superman, Bob Kane, who created Batman, and Jack Kirby (Joe Kirzberg) &
Stan Lee (Stanley Lieber), who created the Fantastic Four and countless other
Marvel heroes. Will Eisner never changed his name, but much to his regret, he
passed on Siegel & Shuster’s Superman pitch. He never published their most
famous characters, but Kirby was a staff artist and Kane freelanced for Eisner’s
company. While his most popular character, The Spirit, might not be quite as
famous, Eisner’s story really is the history of comic books. That becomes clear
in Stephen Weiner’s graphic novel-bio, Will Eisner: A Comics Biography, illustrated
by Dan Mazur, which is now on-sale at finer book and comic shops.
Eisner
grew up poor, in and around New York City, as the son of a frustrated artist.
He often heard the sort of antisemitic comments that have become shockingly
resurgent on today’s university campuses. Of course, Eisner couldn’t have
afforded college, even if he had graduated from high school. He had to work to support
his family during the Great Depression.
Eisner
did not merely work. He was an entrepreneur, who built a successful art studio
for comic companies that we might describe as a packager in the current
publishing vernacular. Kirby was one of the many staff artists, as was Joe
Kubert (creator of Sgt. Rock).
However,
Eisner eventually walked away for the chance to create a weekly mini-comic book
syndicated to newspapers around the country. That character was The Spirit, who
finally had a big movie treatment in 2008 that unfortunately flopped. Regardless,
among real comic fans, the Spirit is considered the pinnacle of masked crime
fighters.
DC has the most iconic superheroes, because nobody has greater symbolic resonance than
Superman—not even Batman. Yet, DC’s super-villains are even more iconic than Marvel's. Two
people won Oscars for portraying the Joker, Heath Ledger and Joaquin Phoenix.
Frankly, it should have been three—Jack Nicholson was robbed. Lex Luthor is up
there too. Generally speaking, Gene Hackman was not a science fiction or comic
book kind of guy, but all his obits prominently mentioned his portrayal of
Luthor. Alas, all good super-villainy must come to an end, apparently even for
Luthor. His death appears imminent unless his virtuous nemesis finds a way to
save him in Mark Waid’s Superman: The Last Days of Lex Luthor,
illustrated by Bryan Hitch, which is now on-sale.
This
Superman story is probably better than the new movie and it is certainly more
daring. Yet, it addresses some of the same themes. The bald baddie’s latest
mecha-suited afront to decency was really just a ruse. His true purpose was to
extort Superman’s assistance in seeking a cure for his terminal condition—naturally
the result of his latest round of reckless Kryptonite experiments.
Superman
believes if he refuses any request for help, even from pond-scum like Luthor,
he will slowly lose Earth’s trust—not immediately, but over time. At this point,
only Lois Lane gets that. Regardless, off Superman goes, whisking Luthor to the
Fortress of Solitude, Atlantis, Paradise Island, and the Legion of Superheroes
in the 31st Century, in search of a cure for the rare disease eating
away at his sworn enemy. Of course, he still suspects this is all just a trap, which
it is—but its not Luthor’s.
Did Superman immediately display superpowers as a child or did he grow into them? It
depends on which Earth, which multiverse, or which narrative continuity you
might be reading. DC Comics can be downright Schrodinger-esque. Two
contradictory events can be true at the same time. It just depends on where you
look. In this graphic novel for young readers, Superman had powers at age eight,
but don’t call him Superboy in Rob Justus’s Superman’s Good Guy Gang,
which just released.
Superman
has all his grown-up powers, but he doesn’t believe it is cool to hang out with
six-year-olds like little Lex Luthor. Instead, he forms a “Good Guy Club” with
Guy Gardener and Hawkgirl, even though she’s not a guy. In fact, negotiating
their name is a highly fraught business. Some also might question Gardener’s “good
guy” credibility. However, his atrocious bowl-cut makes more sense at that age.
Regardless,
the trio must band together to fight the renegade milk-shake-making robot
Luthor innocently created to get Superman’s attention. As it happens, Justus
somewhat follows the trend of some of the recent Superman comics, by inviting
sympathy for Luthor. Arguably, he might just be the most likable character.
In the early 1930s, the Soviet Union was a “land of plenty,” but famine was everywhere—and
deliberately so in Ukraine. Likewise, medical care finally available for all,
yet the only care available for frail teenager with amputated legs is that of
her servant, who is blind in one eye and suffers from a rare blood disease that
renders him weaker than her. Since they are known as Bielka (meaning “Squirrel”)
Zaytsvena (derived from “hare”) Sneguroya (evoking Snergourchko, or “snow-maiden))
and Shchenok (meaning “puppy”) they are clearly hiding their identity. Presumably,
they have a darned good reason for doing so during the Stalinist era of Hiroaki
Samura’s award-winning manga, Snegurochka of the Spring Breeze, which just
released in a translated edition from Kodansha.
Shchenok
is Sneguroya’s servant, but he often refers to her as “older sister,” even
though he is obviously her senior. Similarly counter-intuitive, the wheelchair-bound
Sneguroya clearly prioritizes Shchenok’s safety above her own, even though he
is supposedly her caretaker. For some reason, they have a keen interest in a confiscated
dacha in northern Karelia, even though it is not much of a dacha by the majestic
standards of the Czarist royal family.
Of
course, interest in the nobles’ former real estate is a good way to draw the
attention of the OGPU (the forerunner to the KGB). Indeed, sickly Shchenok barely
survives the light torture that serves as his interrogator’s typical how-do-you-do.
At least their fragility seems to preclude them from serious espionage, so they
are remanded into the custody of Victor Stepanovich Mikhalkov, an OGPU agent temporarily
taking possession of the same dacha, to execute or employ as servants. He
choses the latter, for distinctly unedifying reasons with respects to Sneguroya.
Spring
Breeze is a
fascinating tale of Stalinist era tragedy and intrigue, featuring compelling real-life
characters, like Sneguroya’s future ally, Maria Spiridonova. A former Socialist
revolutionary, Spiridonova turned against
her former Communist comrades, becoming a prominent dissident and prisoner-of-conscience
from 1918 until her execution in 1941.
In this alternate history, the Soviets beat the United States to the Moon, yet
somehow, we won the Cold War sooner. That sounds like a heck of a story, but it
is only the stuff of footnotes and appendices in this hardboiled lunar noir. A
cynical detective’s search for a missing girl takes him into the underground
community of Soviet descendants in Cory Crater’s graphic novel, Missing on
the Moon, illustrated by Damian Couceiro, which is now on-sale.
Rendered
obsolete by robot cops, Daniel Schwinn ekes out a living by “mopping up”
junkies. However, his old boss Oz has a real case worthy of his old skills. A
senior senator’s daughter Penny has been abducted. So far, the only clue is a
shoe found abandoned on the moon’s surface, without any footprints or
body-parts leading away it.
Schwinn’s
investigation soon focuses on the post-Soviet “Darksider” revolutionaries, who
presumably kidnapped Penny for leverage. However, the Darksiders have the drop
on Schwinn and might even have messed with his head, in ways that might turn
him outlaw against his wishes.
The
idea of a noir mystery set within a retro world of Chesley Bonestell-esque lunar
colonies sounds endlessly intriguing. Unfortunately, Crater neglects the
promising alternate history premise, in favor of an overly familiar and highly ideologically-charged
sf setting. Disappointingly, the world of Missing on the Moon is nearly
indistinguishable from that of Outland, the Alien franchise, Murderbot,
and dozens of other polemical near futures built around companies that act the
way that governments actually behave in real life. Frankly, the results are
boring.
Huang Yinfin
(a.k.a. “Yinyin”) is an only child. So are nearly all her classmates. It is
almost like there was a rigid government policy restricting Chinese families to
one child in the 1990s. In fact, there was exactly such a policy, but she never
mentions it during this graphic novel memoir, probably she would not have been
aware of such realities during her elementary school years. Regardless, many of
the memories from her childhood remained sufficiently fresh to inspire Huang’s Yellow
Singing Sail, illustrated by the author, which releases today.
Ironically,
around her fifth birthday, Yinyin was living in the countryside, much like the
regime had mandated for all its subjects two decades prior. Unfortunately, the little
girl experiences strife once her parents move to the industrial city of
Guangzhou.
Unable
to afford their own flat, Yinyin and her parents must stay with her Aunt Guma
and Uncle Guye, who is a member of the state police force. Unfortunately, they
are more opportunistic than hospitable when it comes to their new living
arrangement, while Guma is often downright mean towards Yinyin’s mother.
Although
Huang never directly addresses the “One Child” policy, there several
surprisingly telling episodes. Considering Beijing’s war on Cantonese in Hong
Kong, many readers will be shocked to read how Yinyin struggled to perfect her
fluency to impress the Cantonese speaking “cool kids” in her Guangzhou classes.
Arguably,
even an incident when young Huang discovers their six-floor walk-up apartment was
broken into challenges regime propaganda claiming an absence of common street
crime. Still, much of Yinyin’s school drama is presented in a way that suggests
a universality of such formative experiences.
He is a
superhero with considerable affinity for the horror genre. He fought Dracula
and a Lovecraftian evil that came from the Arctic. He is also known to have very
“Long Halloweens.” This time around, he faces a werewolf, but you know it is
going to get rough, because this limited series was originally published by DC’s
more mature Black Label imprint. Regardless, you cannot argue with the bat vs.
wolf concept of Rodney Barnes’ Batman: Full Moon, illustrated by Stevan
Subic, which releases today in a hardcover bind-up edition.
It is
hard dating Bruce Wayne, but Zatanna is unusually understanding, having
apparently already had the secret identity talk. That is fortunate for him,
because he will need her occult expertise when he tangles with a werewolf. Initially,
he assumes it is just another superhuman beast, like Grodd, but it is savage in
a mindless way, but also contagious.
Fittingly,
the werewolf was once Christian Talbot, an obvious, affectionate reference to
Lon Chaney, Jr.’s Larry Talbot. As a soldier, he generated the ill-karma that
attracted the werewolf who bit him, while serving on a mission in Romania. He
came to Gotham hoping Wayne Pharmaceuticals could devise a cure. The infectious
disease specialist certainly empathizes with Talbot’s plight. Formerly a
super-villain, Dr. Kirk Langstrom, a.k.a. Man-Bat, has been fully reformed, but
he remains a recovering vampire. Slightly disappointed by the lack of results,
Talbot trashed the Wayne labs in his lycanthropic form.
Frankly,
Talbot is a foe Batman cannot beat-up. Instead, he relies on the aid of Langstrom,
Zatanna, and her surly ex, John Constantine. The Hellblazer clearly isn’t over
her yet, but that is why comic geeks are crazy for her. Of course, Alfred
Pennyworth and his mordant wit are also as dependable as ever.
Barnes
serves up an unusually angsty and moody take on werewolves, but that obviously
suits the Dark Knight. He also cleverly incorporates the other familiar DC characters,
especially Langstrom, into this Elseworlds storyline. Parents should note the
13+ age guideline is apt, mostly for language, but also for some mature
references (albeit one that would hopefully be lost on younger readers, but
these days, you never know).
No
movie makeup will ever become as iconic as the monsters Jack Pierce created for
Universal. Thanks to Pierce and the legendary (but often uncomfortable) actors who
endured his applications, including Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, and Lon Chaney
Jr., Universal’s Frankenstein, Dracula, Wolf Man, and Mummy became the ultimate
gateway drugs for the horror genre. Image Comics has re-imagined several
classic Universal Monster movies, illuminating hidden dramas and depicting beloved
scenes from different perspectives, including Michael Walsh’s Universal
Monsters: Frankenstein, illustrated by Toni Marie Griffin, which releases
this Tuesday in a hardcover bind-up of issues 1-4.
The
death of poor Paul’s left him an inconsolable orphan. Watching Dr. Frankenstein
and his hunchback assistant Fritz plunder his father’s grave left him angry—angry
enough to stowaway on their horse-drawn hearse back to Frankenstein’s castle-laboratory.
Throughout
Walsh’s companion-alternate narrative, Paul watches the events of the beloved
film unfold. Initially, the monster horrifies him, but Paul eventually recognizes
the miserable creation is a victim, just like he is. However, Elizabeth
Lavenza, Henry Frankenstein’s childhood friend and fiancĂ©e, tries to protect
Paul and show him compassion, even though the crusty old Baron only sees a
street urchin.
Walsh
nicely fleshes out Lavenza’s character, while leaning into the Monster’s
pathos. Telling the story from Paul’s perspective heightens the tragic vibe, which
is very definitely in keeping with the tone of the vintage Universal films. If
any character suffers from Walsh’s treatment, it would be Henry Frankenstein, who is defined here by
his hubris (which is fair enough, considering he makes the exact same mistakes
all over again in Bride of Frankenstein).
In the
near-future, will Hong Kong even have a future? Only a grim, dystopian one, at
least as it is envisioned by dissident Chinese artist Badiucao (now based in
Australia) and Hong Kong-born American journalist Melissa Chan. In fact, the outlook
for freedom and democracy in general is rather pessimistic in Chan’s graphic
novel, You Must Take Part in Revolution, illustrated by Badiucao (a pseudonym
for his own protection), which goes on-sale today wherever books and comics are
sold.
Chan and
Badiucao, closely collaborating on the book’s editorial direction, slightly
alter the history of the 2019 Umbrella Movement, to heighten the Orwellian implications
of the resulting chain of events. The student activists scrupulously avoided
any form of violence, fully understanding the Chinese Communist Party would
seize on such actions to justify a brutal crackdown. Unfortunately, that is exactly
what they did anyway.
Andy,
an American expat, whose parents immigrated to American after participating in
the Tiananmen Square protests, joins the Umbrella Movement, feeling an apostolic
connection to their idealistic but ill-fated activism (Tiananmen looms large
throughout the graphic novel). He quickly befriends Olvia and Maggie, but their
lives divert in very different directions after the clampdown. Olivia
presumably disappears into Taiwan, but Maggie is arrested for planting an
explosive device on a police car, which unintentionally kills a father and his
young child.
Andy
cannot forgive her for betraying their ideals and giving the Party an excuse.
Neither can she, but the years Maggie spends laboring in slave-like condition
while confined to a political prison will give her time to seek some kind of
atonement. Fortunately, the Tibetan in the neighboring cell helps her navigate
her journey within. Andy also evolves, undergoing American military commando
training, in hopes of liberating the now divided island of Taiwan.
If you
want to read something depressing, You Must Take Part in Revolution (ironically
taking its title from a Mao quotation) will surely do the trick. Basically, it
imagines a world in which China grows increasingly aggressive and oppressive,
because America so thoroughly compromised its own democratic principles to effectively
oppose it on the world stage.
It
would be nice to argue they overstate the fascist potential of Pres. Schroeder,
who is repeatedly identified as Trump’s spiritual heir (but she is a woman, so,
yay, glass ceiling broken). Unfortunately, that is a much tougher case to make
in the wake of the Ukrainian horror show in the Oval Office. Nevertheless, Chan
unambiguously indicts the CCP oppression of Hong Kong, Tibet, and Xinjiang,
while also depicting ominously ever-present Chinese surveillance.
She
looks a lot like Sadako, had the ghostly figure of The Ring matured into
her early twenties. She acts that way too. If she rings your doorbell, do not
answer. Unfortunately, Hiroshi makes exactly that mistake in Minetaro Mochizuki’s
Hauntress, a fan-favorite horror manga that just had its English-translation
debut.
She is unusually
tall and her hair largely masks her face. Any horror fan can tell she is really
bad news, but Hiroshi opens his door anyway. Supposedly, she was looking for
his next-door neighbor, Yamamoto (whom he suspiciously hasn’t seen for quite a
while), but she is making such a racket, he pops his head out to complain.
Ill-advisedly,
he lets her in to use his phone. Conveniently, she leaves her bag behind as an
excuse to constantly call Hiroshi on campus. Pretty soon, she ramps back up to
full stalker mood, but with her focus shifted from Yamamoto to Hiroshi. He
makes some incredibly bad decisions in the way he tries to handle her. As her
threatening behavior escalates, Hiroshi calls his friend Satake for back-up and
moral support. Something about her reminds his friend of the girl they once
bullied in elementary school.
Based
on reports in the media, Warners made the right choice cancelling the partially
completed Batgirl movie. Bringing back Michael Keaton as many fans’ preferred
Batman, only to immediately kill him off would have produced enormous ill will
for the DC brand. It is pretty clear Keaton and Adam West remain sentimental
favorites, considering DC Comics have given them both similar treatment to the
Christopher Reeves-esque Superman ’78 limited series. The first story-arc
set in the world of Tim Burton’s Batman movies, Sam Hamm’s Batman ’89,
illustrated by Joe Quinones, releases again today in a new tradepaper edition.
In this
Gothic-styled, vaguely late-1980s-feeling Gotham, District Attorney, Harvey
Dent, looks a lot like Billy Dee Williams (who played the pre-Two Face DA in
burton’s Film), rather than Tommy Lee Jones in Joel Schumacher’s Batman
Forever monstrosity. He is still a handsome devil at the beginning of the
story arc, but he is also a slippery one. He clearly wants to be governor, so
he crusades against Batman’s vigilantism, the only thing keeping Gotham safe,
to score points in the media. That means Commissioner Gordon is often in the
line of his fire, which is awkward since Dent is engaged to Gordon’s daughter
Barbara.
Bruce
Wayne is most definitely not engaged to Selina Kyle, but he has been
cat-sitting for her, during her mysterious disappearance, to Alfred Pennyworth’s
sheer delight. Recently, various gangs have adopted both Batman masks and Joker
makeup while committing mayhem, often under the guise of pursuing “street
justice.” Consequently, they give Dent more fodder to attack Batman and Gordon.
However,
the opportunistic politician seems to have a change of heart after visiting his
old neighborhood—in terms of politics, not with regards to Batman. Tragically,
his newfound idealism will be cut short by a serious accident that both
disfigures and deranges Dent into the super-villain we all know and love:
Two-Face.
It is
very cool to essentially see a Billy Dee Williams version of Two-Face. In fact,
the way Hamm and Quinones depict his split personality is the best thing about Batman
‘89. It is also warmly nostalgic to see a Michael Gough-like Pennyworth. However,
Batman and Cat Woman do not resemble Keaton and Michelle Pfeiffer as closely as
the characters in the Superman ’78 series looked like the cast of the
Donner films.
Beyond
outward appearances, Hamm’s storyline also clashes with the ostensive 1989 setting,
in a bad way. Obsessed with themes of “two Gothams” and rich white liberal guilt,
it feels like it written in 2021, which it was. As a result, it also feels embarrassingly
dated in 2025.
For Gen-X, Terence Stamp was never an “angry young man.” He was an
intergalactic war criminal. Together with Sarah Douglas, and Jack O’Halloran, he
formed a trio of super-villains that still makes Superman II one of the
best superhero films ever (along with Superman: The Movie). He is one of
the most significant super-bad guys ever, so it makes sense he gets the kind of
starring villainous role enjoyed by DC stablemates like the Joker and the
Penguin in Joe Casey’s Kneel Before Zod, illustrated by Dan McDaid, which
is now on-sale in a bind-up tradepaperback.
This
is the Dru-Zod you know, but now he is officially married to Ursa, who is also otherwise
exactly like you remember her. However, silent Non is absent and unaccounted
for. They still hunger for power, but do not try to reconcile Kneel Before
Zod with the continuity of Superman II. With DC, there are so many
timelines, pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, Golden Age, Tomorrowverse, and so on, non-obsessive
fans should just accept each story on its own terms.
In
this case, Zod and Ursa have indeed escaped the Phantom Zone, but they have
temporarily made “peace” with the galactic authorities and the remnant of
Kryptonian governance. In fact, they have built an outpost on a distant planet
they christened New Kandar, with the intention of developing it as the new home
for the bottled city Kandar, which Brainiac captured and placed in stasis,
before the planet’s destruction.
Of
course, Zod has a secret agenda, involving ambitions of conquest, so he is in
no mood for his son Lor-Zod’s rebellious acting out. Conveniently, the House of
Zod has a tradition of casting out their sons to fend for themselves, so it
looks like his time has come. (In fact, Lor-Zpod gets his own limited series, teaming
up with Sinistro’s bratty brood.) Nevertheless, Zod’s hallucinations of his old
nemesis, Jor-El, cannot resist taunting him with his parental failures. Frankly,
fighting the invasion of alien mercenaries who somehow got wind of his secret
weapon, whatever that might be, offers him an opportunity to vent his anger.
Despite
all the Kryptonian references, Kneel Before Zod reads more like science
fiction-ish titles distantly set in the DC Universes, such as Adam Strange and
Jack Kirby’s Fourth World. Indeed, the later issues take a wild
space-faring turn. They are also unusually violent for DC, because of the
graphic depictions of Zod using his powers very much in the same way Homelander
does in The Boys, but with even less mercy.
An Art-deco backdrop makes any hero look more heroic. It also helps to have
a series of pulp novels extolling your virtues. Adventureman and his teammates
in Adventure Inc. had both. Yet, they came to a tragic end fighting evil.
Everyone assumes they were merely characters in stories, but Claire Connell receives
mysterious signs that they might have ben really real in Matt Fraction’s Adventureman
Volume 1: The End and Everything After, illustrated by Jerry Dodson, a tradepaper bind-up of issues 1-5,
which is now on-sale.
The
first issue chronicles Adventure Inc’s swan song, ending in a downer
cliffhanger. Baron Bizarre had the drop on them, so he is poised to administer
the coup de grace with his Inferno Pistol—and the end. If you find that ending
rather unsatisfying, Connell’s son Tommy would certainly agree. Frankly, she is
also a fan, so she recognizes the Adventure Inc. sigil on a rare volume a
mysterious woman in 19th Century garb drops off at her used
bookstore.
After
leafing through the book, Connell starts seeing evidence of Adventure Inc.’s
existence, including their towering Empire State-like headquarters. Knowing their
history, Connell deduces the right passwords, but she still must evade the
aging robot sentries. She has definitely entered the world of Adventure Inc.,
but she won’t remember the details once she leaves. However, she will notice certainly
physical changes.
Adventureman
has
a clever concept and Dodson’s art is clean and stylish, in an appropriately pulpy
throwback kind of way (Dodson’s wife Rachel was also the inker, so presumably
they work well together). Adventure Inc’s relationship with its own pulp novels
might sound very meta, but thematically it harkens back to the second half of Don
Quixote.
It was a vice, but the numbers game run by notorious crime boss Stephanie “Queenie”
St. Clair was on the level. She also argued that it was homegrown and the proceeds
were re-invested back into the neighborhood. St. Clair probably offered a
better return than future state lotteries. Regardless, the numbers game and her
quasi-legal policy banking were the only businesses she wanted to be in.
However, the outside gangs that moved in on her territory also had narcotics-trade
ambitions as well. St. Clair fights for her territory, because it is her
neighborhood in artist-author Mikael’s Harlem, which is now on-sale for
last minute Christmas shoppers.
Getting
shot at by two-bit hoods and then having the crooked cops arrest her instead
was all in a night’s work for Madame St. Clair. It happens again in the opening
pages, but this time it is witnessed by Robert Bishop, a naĂŻve liberal cub
newspaper reporter. He hopes to tell her story, because he is impressed by St.
Clair’s community spirit and her public criticism of police corruption. He also
thinks he has an “in,” since he is one of her friend Tillie Douglas’s many white
lovers (indeed, he is probably the one she really digs, since he has no money).
Instead, St. Clair hires Bishop to copy-edit her new column for the Amsterdam
News, to make it sound properly polished for influential readers.
Unfortunately,
a turf-battle is brewing. Dutch Schultz wants to take over Harlem. He figures a
show of force will intimidate St. Clair, but he gravely underestimates her.
Instead, her chief lieutenant (and eventual successor) Bumpy Johnson prepares
for war. Lucky Luciano and the Italian mafia have no love for Schultz, but they
also have their eyes on Harlem. Yet, they further recognize the prospect of raging
gunfire on the streets of Harlem would be bad for everyone’s business.
Mikael
presents an incredibly atmospheric vision of 1930s New York. Although there are
few explicit references to jazz, jazz musicians often appear in the background.
He also explores Tammany Hall’s grotesque corruption, which St. Clair helped
expose. Clearly, Mikael’s narrative reflects thorough research of the era, while
his elegant art visually recreates the grandeur of vintage Harlem architecture
and fashion. Indeed, the vibe of his illustrations appropriately harken back to
the sophisticated style of the 1920s and 1930s.
When the opening installment of Cixin Liu bestselling Remembrance of Earth’s
Past series was first published in the United States, it was considered more
definitive than the original Chinese edition, because the author was able to
move scenes of the Cultural Revolution earlier in the novel, instead of “burying”
them in the middle. (Believe me, I was there). However, the first volume of the
graphic novel adaptation seemingly reverts to the old Chinese outline. Readers
must continue waiting for both the horrors of the Gang of Four and the aliens
themselves after reading the first volume of Liu’s The Three-Body Problem,
adapted as a graphic novel by Jin Cai, Twilight Lu, and Silver—and illustrated
by XuDong Cai, which is now on-sale for holiday shoppers.
Viewers
of the hit Netflix series understand why the shocking horrors of the Cultural
Revolution are so necessary to Liu’s story. They persuasively explain how a
human being could decide humanity no longer deserves to exist. Cai, Lu, and
Silver are not even close to getting there yet. However, there is a possibility
physics no longer exists. At least that was the partial lament expressed in one
physicist’s suicide note.
Evidently,
a suicidal epidemic has suddenly cut down dozens of the world’s top theoretical
physicists. It has gotten so bad, even the CCP state security apparatus has
noticed. It turns out the victims were overwhelmingly (but not quite
exclusively) members of a mysterious scholarly society known as The Frontiers
of Science. Therefore, the multinational working group wants Prof. Wang Maio to
go undercover.
He
is also a physicist, but he works on practical applications, so he should be
immune to whatever is affecting more abstract-minded scientists like his old
friend, Dr. Yang Dong. However, working with his handler, hardboiled police
detective Shi Qiang, will be a challenge, especially when he recognizes a
cryptic message apparently meant for his eyes only.
If
readers only judge from Cai, Lu, and Silver’s first volume, they will little
know the enormous scope of Liu’s novel, which only gets wider with successive
volumes. The significance of the “Three-Body” “game is hardly even hinted at.
Of course, the novel’s grand historical sweep cannot be established without the
episodes set during Cultural Revolution. In fact, there is not even a sense of cosmic
stakes yet.
In 2013, life was hopeless in North Korean. It is even worse now.
Starvation and oppression are just as omnipresent, but now draftees are essentially
being sold as cannon-fodder for Putin’s imperial dreams. That is not the life Yunho’s
mother (or Omma) wants for him. However, to escape, they must risk grave peril
in Tina Cho’s graphic novel, The Other Side of Tomorrow, illustrated by
Deb JJ Lee, which is now on-sale.
Somehow,
Yunho’s mother “escaped” across the border to China, where she secretly works
to raise money for her full escape with Yunho. He still lives with his grandmother
(halmoni), but Yunho was forced to drop out of school, so he could scavenge for
scrap metal fulltime to survive. In contrast, Myunghee lives entirely on her
own, having lost all her family to starvation and the regime’s cruelty. Yet,
the fates of the two North Korean children soon intertwine.
First,
the cool-headed Myunghee saves Yunho from possibly betraying himself when the
army sweeps them up amid a large crowd to witness the public execution of his Uncle
Samchon. Fatefully. Yunho’s uncle had already arranged his passage across the
river to China, where his Omma awaits. Myunghee also paid her way that far,
using the last of her food.
Ominously,
Myungheesoon finds herself sold into bondage to an elderly farming couple.
However, when she makes her next “escape,” she comes face-to-face with Yunho,
who reunited with his Omma. As the Korean Evangelical underground railroad
plans the next leg of their journey, Omma temporarily “adopts” Myunghee. It
will help Yunho to have someone to help care for his mother when she gets sick
during the arduous trek. However, he also jealously resents Myunghee trying to
share Omma’s affections.
If
you saw the extraordinary documentary Beyond Utopia, you will understand
the flight from North Korea is not simply one escape, but a series of dangerous
escapes: first from the DPRK to the PRC, then from China to Laos, and finally
to the reasonably safe Thailand, where the South Korean and American embassies
offer asylum.
Cho
captures the grueling nature of each leg. She also explicitly establishes the
Evangelical Christian character of the rescuer network. Although the freedom
seekers deal with a few mercenary traffickers, they are mostly helped by
Christian volunteers, who risk their own lives and freedom to save North Korean
defectors.
Cho
vividly humanizes and personalizes their plight. Myunghee and Yunho are fully
realized young characters, with believably messy pre-teen emotions. Adults will
understand and forgive them, while the target 8-12 year-old audience will readily
identify with them. As a result, Other Side of Tomorrow functions as an
excellent introduction to North Korea and the general idea of repressive
regimes to younger readers. Hopefully, someone can convince Marco Rubio to give
Trump a copy.